Today I went for more motorcycle practice. I really love it. Can’t wait to be out on the open road with just me and my fucked up thoughts. Yeah. Great.
Tonight I went out with R. He’s a very nice guy, but sometimes we had these awkward silences that make me nervous and we would be just looking at each other for a few seconds in all our awkwardness. While he trotted off to the bathroom at one point, I checked my phone to discover why I could hear the makings of a symphony going on inside my purse.
Well, HarleyRider, called. In all honesty, I was already ready to write him off. Come on, the good men never call. I’ve noticed that since my horror with BoyFace, I’m really guarded again. Normally a date as good as the one yesterday would have me walking on Cloud 9 – at least for 15 minutes. This weekend, I’ve barely given him a second thought. And if I hadn’t heard a peep from him, it wouldn’t have bothered me a bit. I’m turning back into a dating machine.
Ok, so R and I ate at Straits of Malaya (which was very good by the way) and then went to Larry’s Lounge for a beer and a few rounds on the Megatouch. Larry’s Lounge just might be my new neighborhood bar. Final Score: He’s extremely charming over email, a little dry in person. But we did the quickie kiss on the lips goodnight and said that we would see each other again. I said my usual, “I don’t call boys, so you’ll have to call me” and he said ok. I have to stop using that line. Twice in one weekend, that’s a little ridiculous.
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